


Red

by Shotgun_Cake



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Just a little ficlet/one-shot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgun_Cake/pseuds/Shotgun_Cake
Summary: “You don’t want to see my sketches? I have quite a few. Flowers, and birds and trees… Clumsy uni students who wander through the woods this close to nightfall.”~~~OR: a Berlermo AU first meeting.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	Red

Martín crossed the street and stopped next to the public gardens, carefully tucking the box from the bakery inside his backpack. _Pepitas_ , just like they made them in Argentina. He knew they were his tía’s favorite. Once the treats were secured between two textbooks, Martín slung the strap of his bag across his shoulder and went through the gate and into the gardens. He walked towards the little wooded area, the usual shortcut to his aunt’s house.

He’d always enjoyed this route better. Especially after a draining day stuck on campus, cramming and stressing over the upcoming exams. The stroll among the trees felt like a breath of fresh air.

A pleasant woodsy scent filled the air, but a crisp autumn wind had started to rise. It was sharp and unforgiving, biting into his skin, licking at his exposed neck, breathing down his hair. Martín hurriedly zipped up his hoodie, thankful to be wearing this one. A warm, comfy sweatshirt, bright red, with the logo of the Science Department on the back. Almost enough to shield him from the cold.

Martín pulled the hood over his head and picked up the pace.

Evening sunrays still seeped through the branches to guide his way, but not for long, he knew. Night fell early this time of year, fell fast, fell without a warning. Martín wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he’d rather get there before nightfall. There were no lampposts in this part of the park.

In his hurry, Martín didn’t see the exposed root. He did feel it against his ankle.

“Shit!”

He tripped, stumbled, but did not fall. He stopped in his tracks to make sure he could still walk, his heart racing from a simple misstep.

“Watch out, red.”

The voice was eerily close and Martín felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Thanks, that’s very helpful”, he mocked as he turned to the man.

The boy.

He couldn’t be much older than Martín, although he did seem older. In the way he carried himself. In his confidence, his elegance, maybe in his eyes too. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark coat. No wonder Martín hadn’t spotted him lurking among the trees.

“I just knew someone would trip on that root, eventually.”

_Great, thanks for the warning, asshole._

He looked happy about it, too.

“Is that what you’re doing here? Standing in the woods like a creep, waiting for someone to break their neck.”

His lips twisted into a grin, something sharp and lopsided that Martín had never seen before. It suited him.

“I was drawing, actually.”

The guy waved around the sketchbook Martín hadn’t seen in his hand.

“Good for you”, he sighed, already turning on his feet. “See you around, I guess…”

“You don’t want to see my sketches? I have quite a few. Flowers, and birds and trees… Clumsy uni students who wander through the woods this close to nightfall.”

Martín should have just ignored the beautiful jerk and kept going. His tía was waiting for him anyway

And yet he couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. He wasn’t sure why. Especially when he was clearly being mocked.

Martín stayed. He bit back.

“There’s no _fucking_ way you drew me. I just got here. You can’t be that quick.”

“I didn’t draw you _today”,_ the stranger corrected. “You’re not usually in such a hurry, I’ve noticed.”

_What on earth–_

The sketchbook opened and Martín saw himself on the page. Framed by trees, cloaked in red. With his backpack slung across one shoulder. It was him. Clearly him. And it was good.

Impressive, actually. Flattering, considering how charming, how enticing was the boy who had _noticed him._

“So you _are_ a creep”, Martín said instead, the words slightly undercut by the smile he failed to suppress, the smile on his face, the smile in his tone.

The boy mirrored his grin before he returned his attention to his sketchbook. He flipped to a blank page and started another drawing.

Well, that was a good point to leave.

They were done talking, the guy was busy. Martín should have left already.

His feet did not move an inch.

He knew he shouldn’t stare like that. But then again, he knew he shouldn’t talk to strangers in the woods, no matter how alluring they were.

The other man wasn’t paying attention to Martín anymore, so dedicated to his task. His lips were pinched into a tight line, and focus had drawn a little frown on his forehead. He looked different like that.

There was something about him. An air, a presence. He shouldn’t have blended in as well as he had. He did look like he belonged there, yes, but–

Martín should have noticed him earlier.

Today. Last week. However long ago the boy had started noticing him.

Heat was rising to his cheeks at the thought, embarrassment, exaltation. Which was ridiculous. Martín was probably just a sketch to him, lost in a sea of hundreds.

His eyes were still trained on the page when he spoke again.

“I don’t mind you watching me draw, but isn’t your aunt waiting for you?”

Martín should have asked him how he knew about that. He should have been scared by it, maybe.

“Right”, he said, in a daze. “Nice talking to you, I guess.”

He wanted to ask if he went to uni too. Art department, perhaps.

He wanted to ask if he’d be here again tomorrow.

He wanted to ask for his number.

He wanted to ask for his name.

Somehow, the questions were stuck in his throat, and his legs were moving on their own accord. Taking him away.

Night had almost fallen, he realized. He should hurry again. The pinch of regret would fade just as fast as the sting of cold against his skin.

He was nearly out of earshot when the boy called behind him.

“See you around, red.”

Martín smiled.

So he would see him again.

Next time, he would see him first.

**Author's Note:**

> More of my latest [Berlermo ficlets](https://shotgun-cake.tumblr.com/post/632955578407403520/ficlets-by-shotgun) on Tumblr ♡  
> 


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